The Man From God...
Tom Russell Lyrics


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Come gather round me children, a story I will tell
I've been around since Jesus met the woman at the well
I've walks these roads ten thousand years, I´m a ragtime millionaire
I am the rake and the ramblin' saint, the man from god knows where.

Oh, they hung me in Downpatrick, up near St.Patrick´s tomb
But my ghost rose up in the peat fire smoke toward the rising of the moon
Now as I drift through your villages, all the maidens stop and stare
There goes old Tom the vagabond, the man from god knows where.

So its rise up all you ancestors, and dance upon your graves
I've come to hear your voices now so maybe I´ll be saved
Cursed are we who forget the past, but pray and don´t despair
My song is might haunt your dreams tonight, I´m the man from god knows where

I've slept beneath your bridges near your oil refineries
I've gambled on your river boats, Shenandoha; Kanakee
I´m the homeless lad, I´m the orphan child, leaves of grass sewn through my hair
Yeah, me and old Walt Whitman, we´re the men from god knows where

I've rode the rods on steam trains with a banjo on my knee
While the ghost of Stepan Foster whispered lines to me
Of the storefront curch and the chain gang choir; Black sorrow filled the air
Then Stephen died on a dross house floor, like a man from god knows where

I've heard the sound of Indian drums, I've heard the bugles blow
Before they re-wrote history, into a Wild West show
My kin sailed toward America to steal their Indian ground
They passed bill Cody´s ships, European bound

So lock up all your daughters, your whiskey and your gold
I have come to claim my bounty, for the lies that I´ve been told




And as I look out on this crowd tonight, I see most of you don´t care
Come lift your glass, reveal your past, to the man from god knows where

Overall Meaning

In Tom Russell's song "The Man From God Knows Where," the singer is a traveler who has been around for ten thousand years, "rake and the rambling saint," an ancient vagabond who has seen it all. The song describes his travels and adventures, including being hung in Downpatrick and rising from the dead, sleeping under bridges, gambling on riverboats, and hearing Stephen Foster's ghost whispering to him. The man also recognizes his own troubled past, acknowledging his ancestors' history, including Europeans stealing land from the indigenous Americans, and curses those who forget their past. He invites the listeners to lift their glasses and reveal their past to the man, acknowledging that many of them don't seem to care.


The song explores the themes of travel, history, and identity. The singer is an outsider who has been to many places and seen many things, both good and bad, and is well aware of the problems associated with the conquering of lands and the displacement of indigenous peoples. He is also a figure who highlights the importance of remembering one's history and acknowledging the negatives that come with it.


Line by Line Meaning

Come gather round me children, a story I will tell
Listen closely to my story, I have much to share


I've been around since Jesus met the woman at the well
I have lived for thousands of years, through significant events in history


I've walks these roads ten thousand years, I´m a ragtime millionaire
I have traveled these roads for thousands of years and have amassed a wealth of experiences and knowledge


I am the rake and the ramblin' saint, the man from god knows where.
I am both mischievous and wise, a wanderer who comes from an unknown place


Oh, they hung me in Downpatrick, up near St.Patrick´s tomb
I was executed and hanged in Downpatrick, near St. Patrick's tomb


But my ghost rose up in the peat fire smoke toward the rising of the moon
My spirit rose from my body as smoke and ascended toward the moon


Now as I drift through your villages, all the maidens stop and stare
As I travel through your towns, people take notice of me


There goes old Tom the vagabond, the man from god knows where.
People refer to me as Tom the wanderer, who comes from an unknown place


So its rise up all you ancestors, and dance upon your graves
Let your spirit live on and celebrate your heritage, even after death


I've come to hear your voices now so maybe I´ll be saved
I am here to learn from the past so that I may find redemption


Cursed are we who forget the past, but pray and don´t despair
Forgetting the past is a curse, but we can find hope in prayer


My song is might haunt your dreams tonight, I´m the man from god knows where
My story may stay with you, as I am from an unknown land


I've slept beneath your bridges near your oil refineries
I've slept on the streets near your industrial facilities


I've gambled on your river boats, Shenandoha; Kanakee
I've played games of chance on river boats in Shenandoha and Kanakee


I´m the homeless lad, I´m the orphan child, leaves of grass sewn through my hair
I am a vagabond with no home or family, with nature intertwined in my being


Yeah, me and old Walt Whitman, we´re the men from god knows where
Like Walt Whitman, I come from an unknown place


I've rode the rods on steam trains with a banjo on my knee
I've traveled by train and played music with a banjo along the way


While the ghost of Stepan Foster whispered lines to me
I was inspired by the ghost of Stephen Foster, who whispered lyrics to me


Of the storefront curch and the chain gang choir; Black sorrow filled the air
I sang about the sadness of storefront churches and chain gang choirs


Then Stephen died on a dross house floor, like a man from god knows where
Like a nomad from an unknown place, Stephen Foster died in poverty


I've heard the sound of Indian drums, I've heard the bugles blow
I've experienced the sounds of Native American drums and military bugles


Before they re-wrote history, into a Wild West show
This was before history was rewritten to glorify the Wild West in entertainment


My kin sailed toward America to steal their Indian ground
My ancestors came to America to take land from Native Americans


They passed bill Cody´s ships, European bound
They sailed past Buffalo Bill Cody's ships heading to Europe


So lock up all your daughters, your whiskey and your gold
Prepare yourselves, for I have come to take what is owed to me


I have come to claim my bounty, for the lies that I´ve been told
I am here to assert my claim against the deceitful actions of others


And as I look out on this crowd tonight, I see most of you don´t care
I observe that most of the audience is indifferent to my story


Come lift your glass, reveal your past, to the man from god knows where
Raise your glasses and share your stories with me, a wanderer from an unknown place




Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Written by: THOMAS GEORGE RUSSELL

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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